


Freedom from Fear

by BryceWrites



Series: Broken Measures [10]
Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Character Death, F/M, Fear, Freedom, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Sons, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 13:12:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5709445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BryceWrites/pseuds/BryceWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When tragedy strikes the club, Kelsi is rocked by the fact they aren't as safe as she thought, as safe as she felt since she'd been with the club. With the veil of safety removed, they gather to mourn the loss of one of their own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Freedom from Fear

Juice and I sat quietly, side by side on the couch. His hand was holding mine, resting on his leg. He still wore his shoes, jeans, white shirt and cut. I was still in my boots, blue jeans, and red top. He’d gone when Jax called him, telling him Clay and Chibs were at the scene, to grab Tig and get over there.

And when he’d come back to pick me up after the party, he was a changed man. I could tell, just after he stepped over the threshold. He looked at me with barren eyes and his body language told me he’d given up. The words tumbled from his lips and I could barely respond.

“What do you mean she’s dead?”

I didn’t remember saying the words, but I remember hearing them echo in my head. He’d just kind of shook his head, like he couldn’t believe it, like he thought someone was pulling an extensive practical joke.

But it wasn’t a joke, because she was dead. She’d been murdered in cold blood on her way to the grocery store.

Juice had crumbled into my arms when he’d gotten close enough. His knees shook before they gave out and he was crying in my lap as I held him close and rubbed his back. It’d taken nearly twenty minutes for the episode to pass so he could stand enough to actually walk. Then he’d drove us home and we both kind of fell onto the couch, in the exact same position we were now.

Neither of us had moved since we landed, except to hold hands. I felt like if I got disconnected from him at this point, the world would break away and nothing would be real anymore.

I couldn’t think of a more deserving man of love and affection like Opie. He was a spectacular person and he helped everyone who needed it. Yeah, he’d gone to prison for the club, but I’d come to realize it was part of the territory, much like not knowing the insides of the club business; it came with the protection the club provided to you for being an old lady.

But what protection had the club provided Donna? How could they let someone get close enough to her to kill her, close enough to shoot her in the back of the head?

None.

The club hadn’t protected Donna, like they always told us they would. What protection did Opie have, now being a single father? Did the club somehow help him with babysitting duty or cooking or cleaning? Did the club replace the love of a woman he’d been with since high school? I knew the club couldn’t provide that to Opie and suddenly, I found him on the outside of a club he loved. Could he recover from a loss like that?

I glanced at Juice, wondering what if it had been him? What if I found him in the middle of the road somewhere, with a bullet in his head? Could I recover from his loss? Would I ever really move on from that?

“What?” Juice asked, noticing I was looking at him.

“Just… thinking.” I told him, my voice cracking from not being used in the last hour or two.

“About what?” He asked quietly.

“If it had been you and I was Opie.” I told him, bending down to lean my head on his shoulder.

“Don’t think about that.” He gently told me. He shook his head like he couldn’t bear the thought to even cross his mind. “Don’t think about that tonight.” He told me, and gently pulled away from me to kick off his shoes. I followed suit, since we obviously weren’t going anywhere else tonight.

Juice pulled me into his arms. “Just lay with me.” He said, moving to lay on the couch.

I snuggled up to his chest, relishing the warm and my heart ached for Opie. He’d never feel Donna’s warmth again. A tear fell from my eye, the first I’d shed since the news. A hopeless feeling crawled into my chest as I held tightly to Juice.

“Why Donna?” I couldn’t keep the question in. “Why Opie? Donna was the only thing that got Opie through. How’s he gonna even function now?”

Juice held me tighter. “I don’t know.” He whispered. “First, we’ve got to find out if there’s a hit on Opie and they made a terrible mistake… or if it really was for Donna.”

I didn’t like that those were the only two options. There had to be some intense third option he hadn’t thought of… right? How was this possible? Donna didn’t deserve this and I couldn’t for the life of me imagine why there would be a hit on Opie, even if it was club related.

“She shouldn’t have died, Juice.” I struggled to get the words out, my watery eyes making my throat close up.

Juice nodded. “I know. I know she shouldn’t have.” He told me, wrapping his legs in mine and bending down to kiss me on the head.

I cried against his shirt until I fell into a fit of restless sleep. My dreams were filled with an onslaught of gunfire. In one scene, we were back in the clubhouse with splintered wood and glass covering the floor, blood running down the walls. A man stood in front of me, shooting me over and over again, but I wasn’t dying.

The scene morphed into Juice and I standing in the field by the dairy where we’d met Daryl and Merle to talk. Juice and I both had a gun in our hands I never saw either of us move, but a gunshot resounded and suddenly there was a blood spot appearing on Juice’s white t-shirt. He looked stunned, looking down at his stomach before he crumpled. The gun fell out of my hand and as it hit the ground, I woke with a start.

I had fallen off the couch and was sitting on the floor, looking around the room. Juice was fast asleep on the couch, looking peaceful for the first time in a long time. I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling stiff as I quietly pushed myself off the floor. I grabbed his pack of smokes from his cut and as quietly as I could, snuck into the garage and out the man door to sit on the sidewalk while I smoked.

The dreams had been vivid and I felt like I needed something to ground me, to tell me this was the real world and I hadn’t shot Juice, even though I’d seen him laying on the couch, breathing.

Cars passed, driving up and down the road, despite the early morning hour. It was probably three or four if I had to guess. I nursed the cigarette along, taking puffs just to keep it lit.  I liked breathing the cherry to life and watching it slowly burn the tobacco inside the wrapper.

My phone beeped and I took it out of my pocket, confused. Who would be texting me at this hour?

Chibs.

“Ya up?” I read outload. “Yeah I am.” I typed back.

It only took twenty seconds for his reply to reach my phone. _Be over in a jif._

I was confused as to why he wanted to come over so late in the evening, but I didn’t argue. I always appreciated Chibs’ company. Besides, sitting here alone on this sidewalk was starting to slowly let my brain sink into the abyss I tried desperately to avoid when Juice wasn’t around.

I glanced to my left, hearing the motorcycle engine make a corner a ways down the street. I saw Chibs park the bike a block down, as to not disturb the sleeping Juice. I watched him walk over and he sat heavily next to me. I leaned into him, wondering how deeply he felt the loss of Donna.

He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it, holding one out to me since mine had burned out. I took the smoke he offered and the lighter before handing the lighter back.

“Ain’t right.” He said lowly.

I nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly. “She shouldn’t have died.”

“Nobody should’ve died. Not her, not Opie.” Chibs said sternly and I knew he was upset.

I hadn’t had the guts to ask Juice, but I knew I could ask Chibs. “Has this… has this… happened before?” I asked quietly. I didn’t mean to imply that the club went around getting old ladies shot. That wasn’t my intent with my question. My intent was more, ‘was this an accident or was the bullet meant for her?’

Chibs shook his head. “Never heard of an old lady takin’ a bullet fer the club. Donna hated it good and well too.”

On some level, I was reassured for a second until I remembered that a woman was dead, a husband was wifeless and two children where motherless. I bit my lip, feeling like a cold hand grabbed my heart.

“Ya ain’t in danger, lass. We’ll protect ya.” Chibs said, the same way he’d always said; the same way he said when I was freezing cold and willing to die. I’d always believed his words. Never a blimp of doubt had ever surfaced to me when he’d said those words, until that moment.

I looked over at him. They hadn’t protected Donna. Nobody had been watching out for her, because she’d been on a trip to the store. She wasn’t on her way to steal or murder. She’d been running an everyday errand and she’d been gunned down.

Chibs glanced at me like he knew my thought process and he disapproved. “Something’s happened we’re not aware of yet. A piece is missin’ from the game.”

I almost cringed besides him. “You… you think this is a game?” I asked, horrified, like some sicko out there thought he was playing some kind of twisted ‘cops and robbers’ game?

Chibs didn’t answer me right away and my inner horror doubled. “We’re dealin’ with a fucked up man, lass. Can’t make heads or tails o’ it.” He told me quietly, sucking on his cigarette.

Looking at Chibs was difficult. I’d never wanted to seem like I was staring at him too long, like I might be looking at his scars, since he didn’t like when people stared. When he’d saved my life, he seemed like this young guy stuck in an old body. But the longer I was here, the more I saw of him, he seemed to age before my eyes. Of course, the bags under his eyes and the obvious lack of sleep he’d gotten recently probably helped nothing.

“Is Juice next? Or what about me? Are we safe?” I asked him, wondering how he was still so calm.

He nodded, giving me a pointed look. “I ain’t lettin’ anythin’ happen to ya, lass.” He told me, moving close and putting his arm around me like this was he promise to me.

I nodded. I’d trusted him since he’d rescued me and I still had no reason to doubt him. I wasn’t as set in stone about the club, but I knew Chibs would keep his word on what he said.

“I best be gettin’ back. Clay’s been actin’ odd. Don’t want him to go blamin’ ‘imself.” Chibs said, standing up and holding his hand out to me. When I took it, he pulled me to my feet and watched me. “Don’t sit out here, thinkin’, lass. Go inside and hold yer old man. He needs it more now than ever.” Chibs said, giving me a hug before turning and walking towards his bike.

I knew he was right, so I headed for the house, gently toeing my shoes off inside the door. Juice was still asleep on the couch, but I gently laid my hand on his chest, waking him up. “Come to bed, baby.” I told him quietly, knowing there was no more room for me on the couch, but not being able to consider sleep without him.

He just nodded and slowly moved to get off the couch. I led him down the hall and pulled back the sheets so he could crawl in. He shed his shirt and pants before moving between the sheets. I shucked my shirt and pants, following his lead before I laid down next to him. He pulled me tightly into him, and I could almost sense his fear.

“We’ll be okay.” I told him quietly, hugging him back and feeling him relax some against me.

And we both fell into a bit of fitful sleep, tangled up in each other’s limbs.

 

* * *

  

Waking up the next morning was hard. I woke slowly and part of me considered how nice to was to sleep and just forget the world for a while. But then I remembered the night before, how Juice had come back to get me, crying over a dead body. I moved my arm through the sheets, but it didn’t hit anything. I turned in bed to find myself alone.

I crawled out of bed and pulled on one of Juice’s shirts. I glanced through the rooms as I passed them before finding him in the kitchen, standing in front of the sink, watching the willow in the front yard. He was still in boxers and the cup of coffee in his hand wasn’t even steaming anymore.

“Hey.” I said quietly, hoping not to startle him.

He was pulled from his daze slowly and turned to look at me like he didn’t think I was real. “Hey you.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked, slowly crossing the room to stand in front of him.

“Oh nothing. Nothing. I just… just had a bad dream, is all.” He told me, setting down the coffee cup to pull me tightly against his chest.

I hugged him back, never moving to break contact with him. I needed the comfort as much as he did. “I’m sorry you had bad dreams.” I whispered against his shoulder.

“It’s fine. They weren’t real.” He said, kissing the top of my head like he was trying to convince himself.

“Come back to bed. We don’t have work for another two hours.” I murmured.

He shook his head, making me pull back enough to look up at him. “I can’t… I can’t lie back down.”

I set my hand on his cheek, wishing I could do more for him than just hold him. “Okay. Then let’s sit on the porch and watch the sun come up.”

He nodded, watching me with careful eyes. “I love you, Kelsi Jo Dixon.”

I smiled. My full name always sounded funny in my ears, spoken with such kindness. He was the only one who had ever said my full name without venom in their voice. “I love you too, Juan Carlos Ortiz.”

“Our first names really are better than our whole names.” He said, verbalizing my own thoughts.

I smiled with a little nod. “Can’t get much worse than Kelsi Jo Dixon.”

He rolled his eyes. “Juan Carlos Ortiz? I sound like a taco platter.” I couldn’t help but giggle, covering my mouth to quiet the sound. His rough fingers set gently on the side of my face, pushing my hand away. “I like to hear you giggle. Don’t cover it up.”

“I feel like I shouldn’t be allowed to. I feel like I shouldn’t laugh again.” I told him quietly, nuzzling my cheek into his hand.

He shook his head, watching me. “Death doesn’t mean you can’t ever be happy again. It just means you’re sad for right now. If you wanna laugh, you go ahead and laugh.”

I smiled up at him, relishing the feeling of his warmth. “How about you get a blanket, I’ll get coffee and I’ll meet you on the porch?”

“It’s a date.” He told me quietly, leaning down to kiss my forehead before moving towards the hall closet.

I moved towards the coffee pot, hearing him moving something in another room before the front door opened and closed. I stirred my coffee in the cup once more before heading to the front porch. Juice sat in the porch swing with the biggest comforter I knew he owned spread across it. I crawled under it, sitting my coffee on the side table and cuddled close to him.

“Clay called for church this afternoon.” He told me.

I nodded against his shoulder. It made sense. “Are they gonna figure out who did it?”

Juice shrugged and I could feel the helplessness come off his in waves. “I hope so.”

I pulled him closer to me, just wanting to appreciate his warmth and his pressure. I couldn’t imagine how hard it would be to just wake up and not have Juice there anymore. But that’s how I thought Opie woke up this morning, if he ever even went to sleep.

 

* * *

 

The funeral was hard and so was the wake. Opie held it together for his kids, who I knew were heart broken. Donna loved them as well as any mother could, better than mine had loved me. But seeing the bikers around me participate in the loss was difficult. I’d never had to attend many funerals; none of my parents family on either side gave a shit about us, so when somebody passed away, it never fell on us to make it to the funeral.

Piney stood up and said some words at the funeral, about how Donna hadn’t been his blood relations and she hadn’t cared much for the club, but she was family all the same. He was Opie’s and that made her blood related.

All I could think while they talked about Donna’s life was that I only wanted one thing right now; freedom from fear. I was here, standing in a group of people that loved me, much in a similar way that they loved Donna and I was so scared. If Donna had been hit, was there something Opie did that set somebody off? Or was there a psycho going after old ladies?

I didn’t want to blame Opie, but I knew the club didn’t let the women know what the happenings were. I’d experienced it since the day Juice wanted me to be his. You didn’t get the luxury of knowing everything was going to turn out. It was almost like this gray cloud over your head, making you wonder if you were really safe, or if it was just a lie you were being fed.

Donna had been going to the grocery store to get dish soap.

She hadn’t been on a mission to kill the Niners. She didn’t want to be affiliated with the club, even though she stood by her husband. She didn’t want her kids to grow up in it the way Jax and Opie had.

Yet, she was the one in the casket that they were lowering into the ground, surrounded by leather clad bikers with solemn faces.

The false sense of freedom I’d been under since I came to meet this bikers was just that; a veil that had been cast out to make my life easier, to shield me from what could really happen to us in this life we lived on the edge of the world.

The façade was the most real thing I’d experienced since I’d been pulled from a bridge by a Scotsman and a blonde. But now I saw the harsh reality. Juice was part of a group of men doing what they thought was right, regardless of if it was or not, and that placed a target on my back, as well as his. I’d thought we were safe. I thought we were invincible. I never wanted to be this wrong.

Opie pulled his children away and they headed for the car.

I watched them leave, feeling an ache in my chest for the three of them. Freedom from fear. That was all I wanted; to stop being scared of every turn and every back lash.

Juice gripped my hand and with my heart in my throat, we moved back towards his motorcycle.


End file.
